tushanshu | VIDEO

[Kaine had been trying to wait until Peter or someone got the consoles fixed, but that didn’t seem like it was coming any time soon, and he didn’t want to wait any longer. Taking a page from some of the others, he holds up a piece of paper with the same message written in four languages: English, French, Spanish, and Japanese. His handwriting is sloppy, but he was trying his best to make it legible in every language. The only thing betraying his true feelings on the news he’s delivering is the way he tightly clutches the paper. ]

May Parker and Miles Morales have gone home.

[He holds it up for about a minute, before holding up a new page.]

Anyone with business with either one of them can take it up with me.

[He pauses for another minute, then holds up a third piece of paper.]

What’s a more secure way to talk to people?

[Another minute, then a fourth piece of paper.]

Want to talk about the shit going on. Not stupid enough to do it here.

[He holds up one final piece of paper.]

Open to suggestions.

[He puts the last piece of paper down and turns the feed off.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Sure I would. Never miss a chance to show up the adults. If I didn't show up, it wouldn't matter if you didn't. I'd be the irresponsible kid who can't even get to the place that I picked myself. So. Yeah. Wouldn't miss it.

[Bart doesn't what to say to the food comment. Is it an offer? A statement? It makes him feel like someone blabbed about his eating habits or maybe the guy is observant on the networks. He's gotten very casual about it anymore.]

I landed in Keeliai just in time for the rationing. When they lifted it... [He lifts both his shoulders in an easy shrug.] What else is there to spend money on? My place is turning into a hoarding diorama. Food, stuff my friends left behind, weapons, tools.

[It's all light and easy. Nonchalant. As if everyone's apartment has an arsenal and a doomsday pantry right off the foyer.]

I have better things to do with my life than take note of your tardiness.

[Easy kid, he just meant he feels like the big bad would bomb his place to get rid of it.]

Yeah, that's great, I'm so happy for you. [Though, truth be told, he's got the same thing in his place.] What I mean is I'm looking to pass it out. I've been buying for four... and... that's not necessary anymore.

[Bart rolls his eyes at the tidal wave of sarcasm.]

OK. Pass it out then. Leave a can of spagetti-ohs on everyone's doorstep, or give it to somebody who just landed on the S.S. Greenshell. I'm just gonna point out that you don't know how gone "gone" is. I've had two friends go home and come back right away. Although one of them's gone again, I think it stuck this time...

[He trails off for a moment, waiting until his thoughts swing back to the original topic to continue.]

Anyway. Dunno know why you're afraid of saying it on a feed. Guys like us, humans or "foreigners" or whatever you want to call it. We're the ones they brought to fight Dumbass. We're already targets. Might as well be walking around in union suits with giant Xs on our chests.

[See, he really hasn't thought much beyond "I have extra food. I should give it to people that don't have food."]

I still have more than enough food. I'm... familiar with how to... stretch my meals.

[His turn to roll his eyes.]

Yeah, and last I heard "Dumbass" was listening. I'd like my building still in one piece, unlike half the fucking places that had food in it.

Lucky you. That doesn't work for all of us.

[Bart survived the rationing largely by being depowered for most of it. That helped.]

Dumbass could be listening right now. I don't care if he wrecks my place, anyway. It's not mine, and it's not home. I kinda want him to just march down the street so we can get it over with, one way or the other.

[Bites his lip, but his look just screams "Do I look like I care about your eating habits?"

See look, he's trying to be considera--]

Yeah well we're not all you. I didn't sign up for this shit. I don't want to be here, and I sure as shit don't want to fight him. That's out of my league. The longer we push this off, the better as far as I'm concerned.

Dunno if he's in anybody's league. I think that's why they keep grabbing us. To keep the numbers up.

But it's only going to get worse if we leave it. Everyone's been ignoring it. He got into the Network, he got into the dome, he got into the palace. You can pretend it's not your problem, but it's gonna be your problem someday. I don't see why we gotta wait around for it to be on his terms.

[Bart has to look up to give him an annoyed glare. Dude's got at least half a foot on him.]

You're kinda built like a Mac truck, y'know that?

[It wasn't what he'd intended to say, but it's what gets said when you realize someone's neck is bigger than your bicep.]

Then they sent the wrong people home! This isn't what I do! I don't do monsters or Galactus! And I don't care if you want to go and get yourself killed, but I'm done with that! [Three is enough, thank you very much.

He looks down at the kid and returns the annoyed glare.]

I work out. [Ah, the only benefits to being an imperfect clone. He's naturally built like a tank.]

[Bart doesn't have to say that he works out too, but he doesn't look like Goliath right now. His incredulous face is saying it for him. ]

Yeah. They did. Obviously. They shoulda sent home the little kids and giant chickens first. Specially the latter cause they eat too much.

[Bart folds his arms across his chest and turns his head at the suggestion that he's got a death wish.]

I dunno who Galactus is. It doesn't matter anyway. Or it shouldn't. That's not even your real body. We're all clones; they just kidnap your soul. You die, and they just stuff your soul in a new one. Dying's…

[Really goddamn painful, actually, and one of his hands moves to rub at his sternum. It's not even a phantom pain, just a subconscious echo.] It's... not so bad. You don't even hafta do anything.

Besides. [He forced a quick grin.] We might live.

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